tagLoving WivesEquation

Equation

byoshaw©

Author's note: First, thank you for the positive reception of my stories. I am humbled for the compliments bestowed. Second, thank you for your critiques, I can only wish it helps me become a better writer. I have noticed that a common complaint is the "storybook" endings my stories tend to gravitate to. I can only acknowledge the veracity of that complaint. Given the personal loss and tragedy I have suffered in my life I feel I've earned that prerogative. In any event I hope you enjoy the story.

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"FUCK ME!" she continued to wail as she slammed into me time and time again. I reached for her large gorgeous tit and pinched the proud nipple standing erect. The painful sensation caused her to arch her back as she rode me cowgirl style. The sobs of ecstasy emanating from her were exciting me and I could feel the stirrings beginning in my loins.

Without warning, I suddenly rolled her off me and followed through the motion until I was screwing her missionary style, all without missing a beat. Ignoring her pleas to be gentle I mercilessly fucked her. My cock was sliding in and out of her tight pussy.

She signaled her approval by wrapping her long muscular legs around me cradling my body. Her hands went around my neck and she stared into my eyes as I kept fucking her. Those large sensual brown eyes peering into my soul as we rocked away. It was almost enough for me to forget the lie those wonderful eyes told.

To keep from dwelling on that, I closed my eyes, as I thrust into her body, my testicles rapidly slapping against her ass. Her moans of pleasure drifted up to me. It was another inducement to follow the laws of nature and climax. Spill my seed into this lovely creature and impregnate her. Have this woman as my helpmate, my partner, my lover, my wife, the mother of my children. All the variables of life as simplified into one simple equation: a man and a woman and life.

The fantasy excited me as I went into the end stage of our love making. A few more thrusts and I would be finished. She could tell that I was due and begged me to come in ever increasing cries. The volume of her voice began increasing as well.

Then in a well-ordered fashion, I reached my zenith and I could hold back no longer. I roared as I slammed into her a final time and my sperm shot out of my cock violently. I held my position as another stream followed, and then, another. She screamed in a climax as her body convulsed. I kept spurting until I couldn't spurt again and collapse on top of her.

Not wanting to crush her, I rolled to the side and deftly maneuvered her on top of me. I felt her warmth and her heartbeat as I gently caressed her as we cooled down from our exertions. We remained silent. It didn't seem necessary to talk. I continued to rub my hands against her exquisite body in appreciation.

Finally, as we cooled off, I felt her hand go up to my cheek. A gesture for my efforts. Then, she untangled herself from me and went to the bathroom. I soon heard the shower go on and I tried to visualize what her body would look like with water cascading down.

For a moment I entertained the notion of joining her, but, instead I remained prone on the bed collecting my thoughts. Then, the shower shut off and after a few moments the door opened with a fanfare of steam rushing out pronouncing her arrival. She stepped out, looking like a mythical Greek goddess as the bath towel barely covered her.

She came back over to the bed and smiled at me and again touched her hand to my cheek. I enjoyed the sensation as the fingers trailed way from me before she broke contact with me. She walked away and without embarrassment dropped the towel and began dressing in the clothes scattered on the floor. I silently watched as her lovely body began to conceal itself in garments. Then she walked over and sat by me as she adjusted her stockings and strapped her slingbacks shoes on her delicate feet.

Satisfied with her efforts, she looked down at me and smiled. "This has been fantastic. When will I see you again?" I obliged and told her that I had her number and I would call her soon. Then she leaned toward me and then past me as she took the ten $100 bills stacked on the nightstand. There was a moment of hesitation as she spied the smaller stack of five $100 bills in a separate pile. She looked at me and I told her to take it as a tip.

Now a large grin broke out on her face as she collected the second pile. Thanking me again, she thought to violate the code and kiss me on the lips. At the last second, her lips veered and I got a chaste kiss on my cheek.

I watched as she walked toward the door. She opened it and stepped out, before she closed it, she leaned back in and said, "Merry Christmas!" The mercenary look on her face destroyed the remnants of my fantasy.

Then I was left alone in the room. I tugged the condom off my flaccid cock and threw it in the wastebasket. There would be no love, no affection, no conception, no friend, no companion, no wife. Just a costly evening respite as I sat on a disheveled bed in a darkened hotel room in a Las Vegas casino.

"Merry Christmas" I sadly told myself as I rolled over to go to sleep.

When I woke, I took stock of the actions of the weekend. Despite succumbing to a biological need last night I still had a profit of $3500 for two days work at the blackjack tables. My goal was to have $5,000 by the end of the week. Obviously, that was going to be a little harder to achieve now given the ground rules I had set.

Every visit to Las Vegas meant an orderly and exact set of protocols to follow to achieve a predetermined goal. First rule, was to play blackjack exclusively. Second rule, was never to drink while gambling or play when fatigued. Third rule, was never to draw attention to yourself. Fourth rule, was to spread the action around the various casinos. Fifth rule, once you reached your goal to get out.

There were a few stratagems that helped me. One was to change my appearance for each visit. Another was to randomly decide what the goal of each visit would be. One visit, it might be $300; on another visit, it might be $2500. I never played at the big money tables. I usually preferred the $10 minimum with a maximum of $500. That kept me under the radar. Often, I would overachieve my goal and then make a show of ordering drinks and under the influence make boneheaded plays. I would walk away from the tables with everyone thinking I left as a loser.

I never cashed in all my chips. I would always cash an amount that would not draw attention by the IRS or the casinos. There were a number of other safeguards I employed. All the same, I knew it was inevitable that I would be caught. The casinos had too much experience and technology on their side. When I was caught, I would be placed in the legendary blackbook of Las Vegas. I would be banished from ever playing there again.

I always had a unique talent for numbers. I can instantly calculate the odds of a particular card being dealt at any given time. Coupled with a photographic memory, I could actually have the odds in my favor on any given hand.

Las Vegas had a term for this, it was called card counting and in the eyes of the casinos it was tantamount to cheating and therefore not allowed. Card counters were discouraged from playing and if they continued they would be barred from playing. If they still attempted to play, well, there were the rumors of mutilations and unmarked graves in the Nevada desert.

I'm not a particularly courageous person. Nor, would anyone consider me to be adventurous. It just happened that I discovered my ability at an ebb in my life when I was desperate for funds. Then it was a matter of survival, now it was simply an expedient way to replenish everything I lost.

How ironic to think I could replenish everything. Some things would never be the same. My job, my reputation, but mostly the core of my life, Laura, now all gone leaving a destroyed man in their wake.

How could I have gone from the summit of the academic world to chasing aces in such a short time? I thought back on my days of being a tenured professor of mathematics at the university. What pride I had, what arrogance, what hubris. I was a rising star in creating new theorems to be dissected and debated by great minds. Now, the only issue I debated was whether to stand pat or take a hit.

All the shame, all the humiliation, it all could have been borne had it not been for the betrayal by Laura. Why had she done it? I never did get a satisfactory answer. All that was certain was she was now in the arms of another man. A man that had schemed and plotted my downfall and had exceeded all expectations of ruining me.

Perhaps it was fate that me and my rival would meet at the crucial juncture in our lives and events transpired whatever the variables would have been. The only certain thing was how the events did unfold over time and now the only guess was how the hand would play out.

I thought back on my first day at the university which had hired me as an assistant professor. I was fumbling my way around campus trying to find the math department. A student took pity on me and directed me to the correct building. Then I had to delve into the labyrinth of offices trying to find the head of the department, Dr. Ben Stevens.

I finally chanced upon the doorplate of Dr. Stevens and tentatively knocked on the door. A roar commanding me to enter was the response to my timid knocks. As I peeked in, I saw an elderly gentleman sitting behind a desk buried under stacks of files. "Ah, you must be Reed. We've been expecting you! Are you hungry? I'm famished and I know a place that serves great food and Guinness at room temperature! By the way, it will be your treat!"

And that machine gun speech was my introduction to Dr. Stevens. The food was as he described and the Guinness was flowing. By the second mug he insisted on me calling him Ben. By the third, he was busy calling up everyone in the department to come join him in meeting the latest wunderkind.

I was buried under a flurry of introductions and though I had a great memory, the noise and chaos and beer at the table had me worried that I would forget someone. When I woke up the next morning with my hangover, I wasn't sure who I was. Somehow I made it back to Ben's office and taking no pity on me began discussing loudly what class assignments I had for the upcoming semester. When he was sure I had the days and times down for each class, he began discussing the nuances of the school. For a solid three hours he held court on the various factions of the school.

The English Department was involved in a feud to the death with the Spanish Department. Nobody liked the French Department and damn few people could find the German Department. The up and comers were the Oriental Languages Departments who would one day take over the world. Chemistry got along okay with Biology, but not with Botany. Astronomy was laidback and caused no trouble. History kept to themselves and Poly Sci was fomenting revolution every day. The various sports teams were all inept and yet commandeered a disproportionate amount of the budget.

Finally, Ben stopped and pronounced it lunch time and that it was my treat and took me to the seediest motorcycle bar I've ever been in. Bikers of all sort greeted him and engaged in conversations of various Harley models with him. It turned out that he was respected as a restorer of old motorcycles. Currently he was restoring a 1940 Indian Chief and everybody wanted to know when the big unveiling would take place.

For the rest of the afternoon, he held court at the bar and I was privy to hearing about the bikers and their bikes and their old ladies in that order of importance. When I was asked what bike, I rode Ben saved me by saying I had commissioned him to restore a bike, but, we wouldn't discuss it till it was finished.

Once again, I stumbled home to my apartment after Ben and I shared a cab after leaving the bar. I collapsed into bed as it revolved around and I wondered how long could my kidneys and liver keep up. When the alarm went off I groggily, got up and stumbled into the shower to wash away the alcoholic vapors. Again, I found myself outside Ben's door and again I was commanded to enter.

"Well, Reed, it was 50/50 on whether you would show up with a tattoo today!" he said with a grin.

"Ben, I can't say one way or the other, my body is still numb."

With that he laughed and we settled into a more relaxed conversation. I was beginning to enjoy his company even if he did drink more than I cared for. We discussed the upcoming student orientation scheduled for next week opening the fall semester. Then he explained his management style for the department. I was impressed by the degree of autonomy each professor had under him. All he expected were our best efforts to educate our students and to continue to educate ourselves in our chosen field.

"Come on, let me show you where your office will be. Then we'll go get lunch, your treat."

As I followed him down the hallway, he began a running commentary on the advantages and disadvantages to each classroom, such as the poor acoustics in the classroom where most of the courses I was assigned to teach took place, but he assured me that all the students would stay awake in my classes due to the poor heat.

As we got further down the hall, he revealed a primary focus of office politics was space and location. The farther away from his office would be translated on where we stood in the pecking order. I noted that being the case he must really hate me as we continued on. He laughed, and reminded me that I was the newby on the block. If I didn't like it, publish some articles and bring some prestige to the department and see how fast I would be rewarded.

As we reached the end of the hall, I saw a maintenance worker busy painting something on a door. Ben had a puzzled look on his face and murmured, "What the fuck?"

As we approached, Ben became agitated as he read the newly painted inscription, ANNEX OFFICE OF DR. JASON FEDER. He addressed the maintenance worker, "Tom, you knew what I told you to do last week. What happened?"

The worried maintenance worker responded, "Dr. Stevens, he told me you changed your mind. So I've been busy replacing all the furniture and equipment in this office. The last thing I gotta do is change out the locks and get the keys to Dr. Feder."

"Tell you what, Tom, unlock the office so I can see what is going on." Ben quietly said.

Tom complied with the order and opened the door for Ben's review. New plush furniture, chic art decor, and new equipment, including a state of the art computer system glistened in the office. Ben walked around and studied the entire layout.

Then he turned to me and said, "It appears that Dr. Feder has spent his entire budget this year updating your office, Reed. Congratulations!" Then he turned to Tom and told him to change out the locks as ordered, but, under no circumstances was he or any of the maintenance crew to give a set of keys to Dr. Feder. No one was to remove anything out of the office without the express permission of Dr. Stevens, and finally, the sign on the door would be changed to Dr. James Reed.

As we walked away, Ben turned to me and said, "I'm afraid, I've put you right in the middle of a powerplay by our associate professor. But, by God, I'll teach him a lesson!"

I frowned, "I don't remember meeting him Monday."

Ben chuckled, "You didn't. He ignored my invitation. Probably just as well seeing what a horse's ass he is."

We went to a local pizza parlor and I was amazed at the number of early arrival students that made their way to our table and chatted with their old professor. What was equally impressive was the joy and animation Ben got from interacting with the students.

Thursday, I had the dubious honor of meeting Dr. Jason Feder. While I sat quietly working on lesson plans in my new office, I heard the doorknob rattle and then a pounding on the door. I went to unlock it and stood face to face with a very upset man.

"What the hell are you doing in my annex?"

"Good morning, I'm assuming you are Dr. Feder. I'm James Reed, the new assistant professor." I offered my hand for a handshake but he ignored me.

"I asked you what are you doing in my office!"

I drew a long breath and told him that Dr. Stevens had assigned me the office along with the furnishings. He went ballistic when I told him that and he ranted in the cavernous hallway for five minutes. I tried to remain calm as he hurled insult after insult on Ben.

"Well, I don't give a good goddamn what that old fool said. You are leaving!"

I looked him in the eye and told him that I would leave only if Dr. Stevens told me. He puffed up with that and assured me that in ten minutes time I would be out on my ass. With that he marched toward Ben's office. One of the witnesses to Feder's hallway rant was Ben's secretary, Mary, so I knew that Ben already had a headsup as Feder went to his office.

I went back to preparing my lesson plans when I heard another knock on my door thirty minutes later. I sighed and got up and opened the door to a beet red Jason Feder. Gritting his teeth, he told me he was there to get his furnishings out of my office. Again, I looked him in the eyes and told him that Dr. Stevens had made an express order that only he could authorize the removal of any of the furnishings.

That started another temper tantrum, but, I remained steadfast that Jason Feder would have to get permission from Dr. Stevens. Finally, I told him that it was lunchtime and I was scheduled to dine with Dr. Stevens. Perhaps he would consider joining us and try to convince Dr. Stevens to release the furnishings back to him, I suggested.

Feder told me to go fuck myself. Instead of retaliating I merely locked my office and went toward Ben's office. Ben had promised to show me the best burger joint in town...my treat.

As I bit into the humongous cheeseburger, I had to admit it was the best burger I ever had. I took a swig of beer to wash it down as Ben continued to regale me with the specifics of Feder's visit with him. As we compared notes, it was obvious that neither one of us would be getting a Christmas card from Feder anytime in the near future.

Saturday arrived, Ben had scheduled a get together party for the faculty at his house. I arrived early and met his charming wife, Teri. Like the attractive Southern matron she was, she graciously accepted the bottle of wine I had purchased for them and took me by the arm and introduced me to everyone.

When we were not conversing with others, Teri was telling me stories about Ben. Every bit of information endeared him to me even more. She told me they found out early in their marriage they would not be able to conceive. That tragedy allowed them to form a strong commitment to one another. Still they were haunted by what might have been. Then Teri gave me a wonderful compliment. She said Ben thought of me as a son. I was humbled and choked by that admission as I started wiping away tears.

"Damn, Boy! I thought I was the only one Teri could drive to tears!"

I was startled to see Ben behind us and he told Teri he wanted to show me his shop. I excused myself from Teri and we walked to the large building. As we entered, I was stunned to see how immaculate and pristine the shop was. It was the total opposite of the clutter in his office.

There in the middle of the floor was the antiquated Indian motorcycle in showroom condition. Ben began to explain how he came upon the body and motor in a junkyard and purchased it for next to nothing and slowly brought the bike back to life.

"Something this beautiful deserves a second chance." he explained.

I had to agree with him.

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byoshaw© 145 comments/ 145643 views/ 159 favorites

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